


Too Long

by bellaliemy



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Dysphoria, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaliemy/pseuds/bellaliemy
Summary: An old emo fic that I wrote as a way to vent.





	Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> An old emo fic that I wrote as a way to vent.

I sat awkwardly and clawed at my hair. “Too long, too long,” I muttered to myself. It itched my neck and added to my nervousness. I scratched my scalp harshly, and it took effort not to rip the strands out on impulse. Staring blankly at the brown strands that I clenched in my hands, I longed to pull my hair back behind a hat. Maybe that would help keep it out of mind. I desperately wanted, no,  _ needed _ a haircut. 

I forgot to respond as my dead name was called in home room, prompting my teacher to yell my name across the room before it dawned on me to respond. It was my first day of highschool, and I was uncomfortable as fuck. My mother had dressed me in an itchy knee-length plaid dress in order to, quote, “not look so dyke-ish”. I loathed every hour, every minute, every  _ goddamn  _ second spent in that dress that day. The stress of a whole new school in a whole new place was awful enough, but I could take that. This, this fucking dress, this fucking hair, this fucking  _ body _ , I couldn’t stand. It was impossible for me to concentrate on my classes when every time i turned my head the feeling of my hair, the tug of the dress on my too-wide hips, the stares when I itched my unwanted breasts, the constant bombardment of my dead name, it all would remind me of the truth. I was stuck in the cell of this body for life, and I didn’t even have control over my flesh prison. 

The day flashed past me as I walked from class to class as a zombie, lost in the dissociative hatred of myself. Lunch rolled around and I found myself in the restroom, staring into the mirror at someone I didn’t recognize, didn’t want to recognize. A ghost stared back at me, a shell of a person. 

I had promised myself a fresh start, a new year to establish my sense of identity, and this was exactly what I feared would happen. 

The door opened. 

_ Shit.  _

“Wha- Why the fuck are you in here?”

I realized my mistake once again. I had used the wrong bathroom. 

The figure at the door kept talking. And talking. God, he wouldn’t shut up.

“Are you lost? The girl’s restroom is right over across the hall. I can help you get there, if you need? Aren’t you that new girl in my history class? My name’s Dom, come on, I’ll help you find the right restroom.” He grabbed my arm and rushed me out of there before I got the chance to protest. It was the most horrifyingly humiliating moment of my day, and with the look on the guy’s face I knew I had scared him. But as I looked again, he was blushing at our joined hands. Fucking blushing! 

“Why do you look so sad? You’re such a beautiful girl, you should smile more.” He flashed a fake smile.

It was all just too much for me. I just fucking  _ broke. _

As soon as he let go, I bolted. I ran out the school, out into the street. Cars honked and swerved as I sprinted through the traffic towards home. Mom was sure to still be at work. I didn’t stop until I found myself in my mother’s bathroom. 

My hair was all over my face, sticking to my sweaty forehead. I grabbed a handful and just fucking yanked and screamed as a bloody clump fell out. I kept pulling and pulling until half my hair was missing and blood ran freely down my neck. Losing all control, I fell down in a pathetic clump on the floor, staining the floor red.

“Too long...”

My body shook with sob after sob as I thought about my next move. My fingernails dug into my palms until they too bled. My cheek pressed against the cold tile, my tears mixing with the blood blurred my vision. But that wasn’t enough to block my view of an old bottle of oxycodone laying on the floor. Without hesitation, my arm shot out to grab the pills. There was no doubt in my mind, no second thought to my life as I swallowed every last pill and waited for the end. I laughed softly at my meaningless existence before my sobs took hold of me once again.

“Too long..too long..”


End file.
